


Flying Low & Flying High

by teamchaosprez



Series: Overwatch 1920s AU [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Coffee, Established Relationship, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8852341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamchaosprez/pseuds/teamchaosprez
Summary: Lena Oxton was traumatized by her service in the Great War, and after four months together she feels it's time to open up to Amelie Lacroix about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place about four months after Just For Tonight!!!! idk how i feel abt this but i wanted a continuation. there's a little bit of hinting towards the plot i kinda wanna take with this au in there.
> 
> ships that are "canon" in this universe are: widowtracer (obvs), reaper76, pharmercy, symbra, sombra/dva (sombra is poly and everyone is fine with it), mchanzo, roadrat, and zarmei. they all live in nyc and they're all connected in one way or another. i may focus on some other characters once i get other individual stories fleshed out but atm widowtracer is the main focus.

There was a fire. There was the smell of burning flesh, and one of the last clear things she could see was her friend and copilot on fire. Her plane was going down, down, down, until it connected with the hard, cold ground a ways away from the battlefield. Prodigy pilot Lena Oxton hit the ground, and she could feel several of her ribs shattering on impact and her head slamming against the ground. Her vision was blurry, and she was only really vaguely aware of the chaos surrounding her, of the familiar silhouette of her dear friend Jack Morrison running towards her even though the wreckage was blurring and pain was everywhere and when he lifted her up into his arms as gently as possible she gave a weak cry because it  _ hurt _ like a million knives and --

And she woke up.

Lena sat up ramrod straight, breath coming out in wheezes and her mind still halfway trapped in the memory. She returned to reality in little steps at a time, first focusing on the blanket that was now on her lap, then the smooth fabric of the sheets underneath her, the occasional car that sputtered past outside. She blinked and breathed in slowly, then out, slowly calming down as she realized that she wasn’t in a battlefield stuck in a prison of pain and plane wreckage. She was just in her Brooklyn apartment that she shared with three of her friends.

She glanced over at Hana, sleeping curled on her side on the opposite wall of the room. She didn’t seem to be terribly perturbed in her peaceful snoring, so Lena figured there really couldn’t be anything wrong at the moment. She sighed heavily and rolled out of bed, stretching with a yawn and deciding that she ought to step out to the balcony and get a breath of air before she decided to go back to sleep. If she had another nightmare, she would have another panic attack, and she was constantly being warned that might cause her ailing heart to fail.

She was unsurprised to find one of her other roommates, Dr. Angela Ziegler, leaning over the railway when she stepped out. She was well aware that the doctor had many of the same problems with sleeping as she did, and for similar reasons; however, while she served as a pilot during the Great War, Angela was a compassionate surgeon who’d let the lack of emotional response expected of her slip when she witnessed the injuries and pain caused by the battles firsthand. She had nightmares about as often as Lena did - and the former pilot could tell that was  _ her _ motivation for being up past midnight by the cigarette pinched between the fore and middle fingers of her right hand.

“You know, luv, there’ve been studies lately that say those things cause lung cancer,” Lena commented simply, joining her friend at the railway and looking out at the city lights. 

“I know,” Angela shrugged, tapping some ash off the end and watching the bright orange specks fall to the concrete below. “But if I am going to die young, I might as well do so in fashion and relaxation. Doesn’t your flapper girlfriend smoke a pack a day, anyway?”

The former pilot’s face lit up bright pink at the mention of Amelie, and she barely resisted the urge to stick out her tongue. “I haven’t caught her with one yet. She says she quit.” Lena turned her gaze upwards to the dark sky, wishing momentarily that she could see the stars as clearly as she had during her time at sea. “Any cure for nightmares n’ flashbacks, doc?”

“No, but if I find one, you will be the first to know.” Angela sighed, took a last drag of her cigarette, and snubbed it out on the metal of the railing. “I am going to bed, and I probably will not be here when you wake up tomorrow. Have Morrison walk you to that date tomorrow afternoon, will you? Rumor around the hospital is that organized crime is picking up, and I do not want you hurt.”

Lena was about to respond with a declaration that she could take care of herself, but she supposed that she might as well make Angela a little more assured that she was safe. What did she have to lose? “Alright, alright. Maybe I’ll even get ‘im set up with Amelie’s friend Gabe.” Not that she really had to try that hard on that one - the two men seemed to gravitate towards each other whenever they felt the need to escort their respective female friends to an outing.

Angela laughed at that, and Lena felt a swell of pride in her chest. “ _ Gute nacht, _ ” the doctor spoke with a small smile, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind her as soon as the former pilot had waved in response. As soon as she was alone on the balcony, however, her smile faded, and she felt a weight of quiet discontent settle over her chest. She would be tired in the morning.

* * *

 

Lena arrived at the cafe exactly six minutes and thirty five seconds late, and she had memorized that time because of the anxiousness that came with it. Amelie didn’t like people being late much, but Gabriel was ruthless when people wasted his time, and despite Morrison consistently insisting that there was nothing to worry about she couldn’t shake off the worry. “Honestly, Lena, they’ll understand. It’s a new spot, and we got lost,” the former commander had muttered in regards to her fidgeting more than once, and each time she stuck her tongue out at him as though she was six years old, and each time he rolled his eyes and grumbled something about her being childish.

Luckily, he had been right. Amelie brushed her off with an “As long as you are here and unharmed,  _ cherie _ , there is no problem,” and a kiss on the cheek, and Morrison pulled Gabe aside almost instantly anyway so there was nothing to worry about from him.

They had only met a handful of times since the party where they met, but every time Lena was blown away all over again by the patience her girlfriend showed that seemed to be exclusively for her. She wasn’t late  _ every time, _ but when she was, Amelie listened to whatever reason she had and understood - on the other hand, if they were hanging out with  _ friends, _ Amelie would become a living hurricane if anybody was late by even one minute. (Lena kept a pen on hand whenever their friend groups mingled to see who could get the older woman to get pissed off most. So far, Sombra was the undisputed winner, with seven nights of passive aggression under her belt, one for every single time there had been a party or something in the four months they’d been together.)

“Has anythin’ interesting been happening with you lately, luv?” Lena asked eagerly once they had settled in and paid for their coffee - hers with a little bit of cream and plenty of sugar, Amelie’s flat black. “Not much to report with me, honestly! I’ve finally found a job doin’ some easy work for a factory pretty close to my apartment, so I can cooperate with the rent now.”

“Good,” Amelie spoke, and the small, faint smile she was gifted with was enough to make Lena’s heart flutter. “Nothing much has been going on with me. Gabe is trying to get me to volunteer with his new job, but I am… reluctant.  _ Il a un salaire généreux, mais la morale est discutable _ . I would tell you about it, but I do not think that would be wise with the man himself in the same cafe.” She twitched her head towards Gabriel and Morrison, who were sitting in a booth and talking about something Lena was too far away to hear.

She didn’t speak French, and she knew that Amelie knew that - most of the time, when the older woman slipped into French in the middle of a calm conversation, it was because she didn’t want Lena to know something but also didn’t want to lie. It bothered the former pilot a little, if she was being honest, but at the same time they hadn’t been together that long and she didn’t want to push Amelie away by pressing for details. “Well, luv, if ya think it’d be good for your future, I say go for it - if not, then what’s the point, yeah?”

Amelie snorted, but nodded in response. “That makes sense.”

Most of the rest of their date was spent quietly, making the occasional small talk about whatever stranger entered the cafe or exchanging stories about friends or their childhoods. Lena was comfortable in the warm environment of the cafe talking to somebody she cared so much about, enough so that she was almost sad when Amelie mentioned that they had been there a while and they ought to go. Morrison and Gabe had wandered off by then, and neither of them really had things to do, so it was decided that they would go to Amelie’s house in Queens to spend more time together.

It being November, it was beginning to get chilly, and Lena was vaguely aware that Amelie must have been cold because she didn’t have a coat and her dress was held up only by thin straps, so she shrugged off her pilot’s jacket and offered it to her girlfriend. Amelie glanced at her as if she was about to object, but took the jacket anyway with a small smile and pulled the sleeves over her arms. Partway through their walk, Lena decided that she probably ought to have a talk with Amelie about her ongoing issues if their relationship was to last a long time; she figured it would be best to just try to start a conversation outright than put it off for a long time.

“So, luv…”

“Yes,  _ cherie _ ?”

Lena hesitated at the light tone of her girlfriend’s voice. She was in a pretty good mood, probably because they were having a good time so far, and she didn’t want to ruin it, but… it wouldn’t be good for anybody to put it off. “You, uh, mentioned that you moved away from France because of bad memories. Did those… have anything to do with the war?”

She could see Amelie tense, and almost regretted asking when the older woman responded in a rather quipped tone. “Yes,” was all she said, keeping her gaze trained forward. “My husband was killed in the conflict.” She didn’t elaborate further, and Lena didn’t really have the heart to ask, choosing instead to link her arm with Amelie’s and continue to walk forward in silence for a few yards. It made sense that she wanted to get away from the country where she lived with a dead loved one, she supposed. She’d probably make a run for it if one of those close to her died.

“I, uh, have some bad memories about the Great War too. And I feel like you should know about them, because we’ve been going out for a while and I really want to be together for a long time in the future.” She shifted uncomfortably - talking about this was a lot harder than she had initially expected it to be, partially because of the bombshell of information she’d just received and partially because the only people she’d ever discussed her trauma with beforehand were Morrison and Angela.

“See, I was, uh, a pilot. Disguised myself as a boy when I was sixteen, lied about my age and called myself Liam to get into the army. They bought it, or at least decided that I was a good enough pilot that my dishonesty didn’t matter. I was put in a pretty prestigious position pretty quick, and I became pretty close friends with my partner and copilot, yeah? I was serving my country, I was actually doing something with my life besides workin’ in a factory that exploited the labor of poor lil’ kids. For a while, everything was great! There was a lotta  _ guilt, _ sure, but the pride was bigger.

“Then, towards th’ end of th’ war, my plane was shot down near a battlefield. I remember it like it was yesterday, ‘cause of my nightmares, but basically my partner died and I was really badly wounded. Good ol’ Morrison was actually the one that saved my life. I was in the hospital for a real long time dealing with the trauma and my injuries, and a couple’a years ago I was told that I have some sorta issue with my heart that makes it beat irregularly. So I went sailing and now I’m here.”

Amelie listened attentively as she spoke, and when Lena finally managed to look over at her girlfriend she was unprepared for the look of surprise and sadness that she was met with. She was silent for a time, waiting uncomfortably for the older woman to speak again, and was fairly reassured by her words when she did. “Well, I can assure you that I will be here to help you in any way I can. I care very deeply for you, and if there is anything you need, my door is always open to you. I will even give you a spare key. And my telephone number.”

Lena actually managed to genuinely smile, which was pretty rare whenever she talked about the war - even if she was normally peppy and energetic, that was a sore spot for her for obvious reasons. “Well, luv, I’m really glad I have you around,” she spoke in a voice that was a little too grateful in her eyes, and gave her girlfriend a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about your husband, too. We’ll help each other.”

“That sounds wonderful,  _ cherie _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> comments would be nice, let me know if you want me to keep on keeping on with this au <3 i love it a lot but i'm not going to post much if nobody's reading and giving me feedback


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